Open Run
by Hermonthis
Summary: Finn/Piper – He takes her hand and leads her away from everything that defines them as members of the Storm Hawks, to the lonely place where only they know each other - and are left to wonder what might be.


A/N: This little scenario was partially inspired by the episode "The Beach" from _Avatar: the Last Airbender_. (The original draft of this fic was much shorter.)

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**Open Run**

He leaves the festivities and the happy bonfire behind them, remembrances of the end of the Cyclonian war and thinks about new mornings waking up on_ the Condor_ with no worries of Talons to follow. And because he is a bit of an idiot, a talent not everyone can possess, he grins and points his fingers in the direction of a few bikini-clad girls who are actually a bit more _woman_ than a blond teenager like him can handle, and earns a few disapproving glances from their squadron captains that way.

Tonight is the night for Aerrow. Tonight is the night for everyone. On Terra Tropica, on this beach where all their family and friends gather to celebrate the final closing seal of the war, he looks for Piper. The mysterious girl he spied that afternoon, sunbathing with a blue and white umbrella that covers her tanned shoulders as she flips the pages of her latest book.

Finn remembers watching with his jaw slack in sudden realization. There she is on the sand, dressed in an ocean blue swimsuit underneath the July sun. She is wearing overly-large, plastic rimmed sunglasses to protect her eyes, swipes the sweat and her heavy bangs from her brow; and Finn selfishly wonders if she decided to wear that colour just for his viewing.

The war is at a close.

The boy with the blond hair is not sure where the winds will take him after this, and sometimes the stiff line of his leader's shoulders tells him that this might be the last time any of the Storm Hawks will be together like this for a while, but he's not going to think about it much. It will only be for a brief moment in time, because he is a Storm Hawk – and a Storm Hawk is forever.

There are three bonfires at the beach where all the Sky Knights gather, it is a farewell party to those who have departed and a welcoming committee to those who survived. The third beacon is for the untold future. In the flames, many familiar faces glow happily with their cheeks and eyes alight by the bright embers.

Through all this noise and merrymaking, Piper is standing aside from the crowd, smiling to herself as she tugs the blanket around her shoulders even more. In her right hand are her over-sized sunglasses, while in her left her fingers move ever so slightly, as if she needs someone to hold onto them.

So Finn tiptoes stealthily behind her and when the timing is just right, jabs his fingers into her ribs. Piper screams in alarm and silence befalls the camp as everyone stops to take a look at her.

"Finn!"

Flushing with humiliation, the girl bares her teeth and whips the towel from her shoulders. It's a good thing it isn't wet or else the prankster would be sporting some large, purple welts come sunrise. She chases him around on the sand, her sandaled feet slipping and sliding on the uneven surface as she twists the cloth between her fingers. She takes aim at his head, his arse, and whatever exposed piece of flesh there is to punish him for her mortification. She just wants some quiet time to think, and he has to ruin it all. How typical.

Bellows of deep-throated laughter come from the general crowd as the party restarts, only with more food and drinks on the table with the return of a Third Degree Burner. There are four more coolers taken from their airship, and there are plenty of hot dogs to spare. A few individuals glance up at the bank and notice two shadows scrambling up the space between the beach and the island, but amidst the reverie, they forget quickly the image at the sight and smell of gooey, sticky smores.

Playful, blue eyes watch Piper as she climbs the bank and slides in the darkness. Her hands fumble as she grabs a handful of tall grass and mutters useless death threats against the one who should be running for his life. Finn snickers behind a tree trunk and ducks under a leafy bush once Piper reaches the top and scans the high ground for signs of her future victim of slaughter.

Then, out of nowhere, Finn appears alongside her. He takes liberties as his right hand comes to rest on her waist and briefly – very briefly – brushes his skin against her skin. The befuddled girl whips her mane of blue hair around and barely misses catching her invisible admirer as he slips away again.

She takes a few steps forward, away from the lower shore and towards the inner sanctum of Tropica. She calls his name - softer, slower, and unsure. Finn hates to see her like this, left alone in the shadows so he steps out into the light and takes her away. He takes her hand and leads Piper away from the party, from the festivities, from what defines them as members of the Storm Hawks and to the place where only they know each other and wonder what might be.

They head into the bushes again, into the secluded area underneath the forest trees where the heat of the setting sun lingers between the palm leaves, unlike the way it plunges readily into the sea and changes day into night so quickly. Again, she reminds him of his idiocy because they are traveling with their poor human eyesight and they are still in their beach clothes and why, oh why, didn't Finn think to bring a flashlight with him?

_Because,_ he reasons, _I don't think about this stuff like you do._

Her footfalls are like his; less steady, unfamiliar with a swaying gait as their open toes sink into the soft earth. Once or twice, she tugs on his fingers, silently asking him to slow down. Piper can't see where she's going, and she feels unprepared. There is a little trickle of lights above them but not much, and what filters down from the chlorophyll leaves are tiny, glinting dust motes that can be found all twenty-four hours of the day.

And she thinks it would be much more romantic if he did this in the afternoon, rather than waiting so late into the night.

But then they stop in the middle of this black nowhere and both their hearts are fluttering so fast there's an empty, hollow feeling inside their chests but they're not entirely sure what to do about it. Piper's eyes are wide as saucers as she stares; a fact made more hilarious by Finn's mirrored reaction. They come closer, only baby steps apart; and he can feel the fervent blush of her cheeks radiating off his pale, white skin.

And Finn kisses her not because she's another girl, but because she's Piper. His stomach somersaults and his feeble brain lurches forward just at the moment this girl closes her eyes and their lips press against the other in first contact. He's nervous and energetic and wonders if this means he's grown up now, because it's nothing special to kiss a regular chick – but somehow it's everything to him when he kisses Piper.

Wild, tangerine eyes are burning Finn's baby blues, and they start from the inside-out. In order to keep his footing steady despite his wobbling knees, he wraps one arm around her waist while the other moves up the length of her back. Everything is soft and warm, like a beginning of a heated marshmallow, and while that thought is running through his mind, screaming in chaos because _OH MY GOD – I'M ACTUALLY KISSING PIPER – _the girl on the other side of this lip-lock smiles and slips out a little moan.

So, this is what romance is all about. Maybe it's more than just the appealing faces, the status of the playboy, the narcissism that every good-looking girl in the room wants a piece of Finn. Their brains are swirling inside their heads, and their heads feel all strange and lop-sided as if they have inhaled some helium balloons. Open mouths move over needy lips and heated skin - and it's completely intoxicating.

Piper remembers what one of her older female friends told her, and she replays that bit of trivia inside her mind. For a man can have a different woman every night, but he will always end up with the same thing; or a man can have the same woman for the rest of his life and he will experience something different every evening. Or so they say.

It's not forever, but it's a start. The world and everyone living it flows from one age to another, and what begins on Terra Tropica in the shadow of an evening bonfire has the potential to last longer than the embers they will find in the early morning. A beautiful sunrise - and the pleasure of waking up in Piper's arms.


End file.
